They Belong to Us

I've been meaning to share some of the processing I've had to do to wrap my heart around the fact that there are two girls in Africa who are my daughters. I think it is important to share because one great fear I know a lot of people have is that they won't love an adopted child like their biological children. Of course I don't have a biological child, but I have no doubt that I don't love Abram any less than a mom loves her biological children. :)

International adoption is different. You are all of the sudden shown a picture of child a million miles away and you have to decide if he or she will become your son or daughter. In theory, it sounds like a wonderful, glorious moment . . . the day you finally see a picture of your child. In my experience, however, it is a heavy, daunting feeling.

When I first saw our girls' pictures, I felt SCARED. TO. DEATH. I was scared of how emotionally wounded they might be. I was scared if they would love me as their mom or not. I was scared if I would love them as my daughters. Will they ever attach to me? I think a lot of this had to do with the fact that they were 5 1/2 (actually 7 now)and six years old and not the cute, snuggly little 3-4 year olds I was expecting. I didn’t get those warm, fuzzy feelings you get when you look at cute little African orphan babies in a slideshow.

Another thing happened as soon as we accepted the referrals of our "older" girls, almost three months ago. I became very aware of my niece Sydney's little 4-year old world. I noticed how much of life she comprehended, her language, her affection and all of her 4-year old cuteness. It made me ponder how long it would take our girls - 7 and 6 years old - to catch up with all that she understood of the world around her. It overwhelmed me at times.

During the time of my heightened 4-year old awareness, I spent a weekend away with Sydney (and Mya, Kate and mom). For two to three days after that trip, I was depressed. I was so incredibly sad for all of the 4-year old crawl-up-on-your-lap cuteness that I will have missed out on in my girls lives. I did a lot of crying, grieving those losses.

But, grief is a gift from God. He gives us the tool of grief to move from one place in our heart to another, new place in our heart. I am so thankful for grief (though it is no fun at all to go through). During this short time of grieving, I read the following from Oswald Chambers (My Utmost for His Highest, Sept. 25):

“Our Lord's making of a disciple is supernatural. He does not build on any natural capacity of ours at all. God does not ask us to do the things that are naturally easy for us - He only asks us to do the things that we are perfectly fit to do through His grace, and that is where the cross we must bear will always come.”

I also read: "There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment." (1 John 4:18)

And finally: ". . . in quietness and trust will be your strength" (Isaiah 30:15)

My heart was (and often still is) overwhelmed at the thought of bringing in these two older girls who have had significant neglect and trauma in their short little lives. But, God's truth spoke peace into my weary heart. My strength and ability to love and help these girls rests solely on God. There is a sweet freedom and joy in this place.

Sure enough by the next week I felt the beginnings of love for my daughters. Making a photo album for them helped. Buying shorts and shirts and underwear for them helped. But, it has been a process . . . a process that involved a lot of tears while crying out to God during worship at church for about four weeks in a row, asking Him to do what seemed impossible from my point of view. Jesus has been faithful and He has grown a fierce love inside me for my girls.

Just this past week, we received new pictures of all three kids. The girls were wearing the clothes and flip flops we sent and holding the baby dolls we sent. And they looked SO DIFFERENT from their first pictures in the orphanage. I honestly thought they sent me the wrong pictures of my girls. 10 weeks in a foster home, receiving love, nurture and better nutrition has made a huge difference. Not to mention the knowledge that they are no longer orphans. Our social worker said the girls were smiling because they know we are adopting them.

In one of the pictures we received, our six year old daughter was holding the photo album we sent with a picture of Jason, Abram and I on the cover. The look on her face is so cute. You can tell she is happy, almost proud, to be showing a picture of her family. Just three months ago they were orphans with no hope, no family, no one to love them as their own. And you could see it on their sad, empty faces in their first pictures. They now not only have hope, but a family.

In the most recent pictures, both girls are wearing a nametag that says LEE, _ _ _ _ _ (first name). They finally BELONG to someone. They BELONG to the Lee's.

They belong to us.